Best Seller
by azarathangel
Summary: The possibilites on paper were endless, and his writing showed her just how magical the possibilities really were. [BoothxBrennan] Oneshot dedicated to Tempo


**Story: Best Seller**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, only the scotch tape holding posters to my wall. No claim to Bryan Adams lyrics or Bones here, sadly… Now I'm going to go cry.**

**Spoilers: Minor for Two Bodies in a Lab**

**Pairing: Booth x Brennan**

**Chapters: One-shot to keep you guys sustained between 'What Hurts the Most' parts. Lots of school work and this one was already written, so I'm just typing if for ye.**

**Summary: The possibilities on paper were endless, and his writing showed her just how magical the possibilities really were.**

**Chapter 1: Here I Am**

**Note: Please review this story it makes me happy plus it'll inspire me to write 'What Hurts the Most' part two sooner!**

**Dedication: This is for Tempo, for both the initial idea and for my evanescence songs lol. Go read her story 'Blank Pages' cause that's where this idea stemmed from. This is my interpretation of chapter two.

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Soft Tibetan music blended with the scratch of her pen as Temperance Brennan poured her hidden heart and soul onto the paper in front of her as her fiction. It gave her a sense of accomplishment like no other to see the purest white expanse of her journal become filled with pen marks and her hidden fantasies. It is not just the writing she loves, but the vivid mental imagery that runs hand-in-hand with the words that flow almost effortlessly from her pen. Her dream world is her book, and her book is her hidden soul. But only she knows that; only she can ever know.

She paused as her words spilled from her character's mouth. She knew exactly what she wanted to write next, what he will say on her pages. It is what she wants in real life, and everything she ever hoped for. But, though this is her dream world, her hidden playhouse from life, it still takes effort to write his words. Because she always imagines them spilling from his lips when she sees him next, and it makes it even harder when he doesn't. Her bright fantasy is forever obscured in reality and the fact that she will never have him. It is only in the endless labyrinth of her mind and within the boundless shackled of her paper she can have him. She presses the pen once more to her page to pour her heart out, but in her hesitation her courage has escaped her.

"Bren?" A small knock at the door broke her concentration and Brennan looked up from the notebook, normally vexed but now grateful for the distraction. Angela smiled at her from the doorway.

"You said you'd leave work for lunch, Sweetie. I said I would make sure of that. Here you are, working. I let you write till 1, but I'm hungry and you're coming with me now." Angela stated as she tapped her watch impatiently. Tempe prepared to argue back, but a glance towards her page reminded her once more of the dilemma she now faced in the dialogue. So instead she laughed quietly and recapped her pen.

"Fine, you win Ange. Where to?" Brennan dropped the pen on top of the open notebook and joined Angela at the door, her coat halfway on.

"I don't care; let's just get out of here before bug boy decides to give me a first-hand demonstration of how a dung beetle makes a living." Angela rolled her eyes and gently shoved Brennan into the hallway.

"Bug Boy?" Brennan laughed, the two friends heading towards the elevator.

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The Jeffersonian is uncharacteristically quiet today, Booth thought as he walked down the familiar hallway to Brennan's office, softly whistling 'Hot Blooded.' As he neared it, the faint sound of one of her world music collections floated down the corridor towards him. Booth grinned and quieted his steps as he approached the room.

"Bones!" He exclaimed loudly, stepping into the room. The grin fell as he locked eyes with an empty office, leaving Booth feeling like an idiot. What kind of sane person jumps into a room yelling bones? He did a quick scan of the room, his eyes falling on an open notebook, the page half full with familiar handwriting. The mischievous grin returned to Booth's handsome face. He quickly crossed the room and plopped down at Brennan's desk chair, his fingers itching to peel through her little book.

"Well, well… What do we have here, Dr. Brennan?" Booth said to himself, removing the pen that lay across the bottom line. It was the next chapter of Brennan's book, he realized after a quick scan for names.

Booth suddenly felt a pang of guilt, but his curiosity quickly masked it when he saw the FBI character's name on the particular page he was opened to, rather, the page _Bones_ had left open… It wasn't like it was an invasion of privacy, was it? She left it wide open. If he was at a suspect's house and the door was wide open, he didn't HAVE to have a warrant. For all he knew, the suspect could have been inside, injured or dead. If Brennan left her notebook out, any wandering passerby could easily read it. Booth just so happened to qualify for that position.

He scanned the top of the page, but halfway through the written work he actually began to read it. His heart found its way into his throat as he devoured the heartfelt words from one Temperance Brennan's favorite pen, and he felt an all too familiar clench-y feeling in his chest; it was what he felt when she was around, so close he could touch her yet so far all he could do was watch her from a distance and long for her. It was longing. With a shaking hand, he uncapped her pen and wrote in the FBI man's response to the scientist, exposing his own heart before standing and rushing out of the building before he could go back and cross out what he had just written.

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"Thanks for lunch, Angela." Brennan laughed as the two friends parted at her office door. She stepped inside and sharp blue eyes immediately picked up on two things. One: her office chair had moved, and two: the pen had disappeared from its place on top of her last page. Tempe slowly made her way across the room to her desk and moved the chair back into place, her eyes constantly searching for her favorite pen or any other anomalies in the familiar office setting. She finally found the pen on the floor and stared at it in her hand from a kneeling position under her desk.

The idea of someone in here while she was gone, or more importantly, her notebook was out, unnerved her a bit, but no damage had been done. With a shrug, she reached up and placed the pen back onto her desk and stood to retrieve her lab coat from the back of her chair. She was just about ready to leave and go onto her afternoon's work when a line of fresh ink on her page stopped her.

More curious than angry, she leaned in and read the last line. Disbelief and undeniable hope flooded her systems, and she scratched a response onto the paper, thinking maybe he would return later and she could inquire as to the reason for such a joke, if it was a joke. Though she hoped it wasn't…

A crash came from the lab followed by the voices of an angry Hodgins and an apologetic Zach. The shout of one freaked Angela Montenegro quickly joined the hubbub. Brennan groaned and threw the pen down before briskly walking out the door to help Angela restrain the irate Hodgins while catching his beetles.

No sooner had she left than Booth returned to find her. The lab coat was absent from her chair, he noted, so she was definitely in the lab. The commotion from outside clued him in as to where. Booth turned to head to the lab, but decided to check and see if she had made any headway on her story and if he should start running for the nearest bomb shelter instead of towards her if he didn't want his ass handed to him in a body bag. There was a line written beneath his, and as he read it, there was no more doubt in his mind of what he had to do, and no stopping what he wanted. This was his proof, not exactly concrete evidence, but Booth prided himself on reading between the lines. It was one thing that made him such a wonderful agent. He picked the pen up, but the lack of noise in the lab and the steady click of heels on the linoleum outside sent him running back to the door.

Brennan walked by him, not noticing the FBI agent behind her door. Angela came in right behind her, the two talking about Brennan's newest chapter and Angela seemed very excited about something. Booth though he knew what.

"And since I'd rather read it to you than have you snooping around in here," Brennan's back was still turned to him as she leaned across the desk to retrieve her notebook, "listen up." She began to read the paragraph Booth had already committed to memory. Angela turned to walk around the room as she listened and saw Booth back against the wall.

Her mouth opened but he silenced her with a stern look and a wild gesticulation with his hand. Angela grinned, her eyes shining with typical Montenegro-scheming and matchmaking. Booth jutted his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the forensic artist's exit. Said artist smiled again and quietly walked out the door, mouthing "you owe me one" as she passed him. Booth rolled her eyes at her retreating figure before walking up behind Tempe as she read.

"The tension in my arms was released as he lifted me from the hook that could have been my grave." Brennan read, her voice quiet in memory. Booth stood silently behind her, reliving the warehouse with her as she read the fictional version.

"As I collapsed upon him, his bruised body shuddered in pain beneath my weight, but he would not release me from his grip, opting instead for holding me even tighter against him. His breath tickled me ear, and he told me everything I ever needed or wanted to hear."

"I love you, Bones." Booth interrupted, reciting his own input into the story. The scientist in front of him stiffened momentarily as his voice penetrated her thoughts just like he had wormed his way beneath her cold shell.

It couldn't be a joke. He was standing right behind her, telling her this. Or was he simply reading over her shoulder? Had Angela written the line in? No, she couldn't have. Brennan knew Booth's scrawl as well as her own, and only he could have written those words.

Slowly, she turned to face him, fully prepared to take the blatant laughter she expected as he saw her facial expression. But his face was solemn as hers, hope shining in his eyes that was reflected in her bright blue eyes.

"I thought you weren't going to make it." She whispered to him, the last written lines on the page now spent. Booth gave her a gentle smile, not cocky, but childlike uncertainty and innocence.

"Here I am." He whispered back, slowly leaning towards her. Their eyes were locked for an eternity before he stopped just above her, waiting. Brennan had to make this leap of faith on her own; he would not force her, but she had to come to him. It could be no other way.

When she noticed his pause, she almost screamed as the epiphany that hovered on the edge of her mind finally crashed down around her in all of its startling reality. This was him, this was the man who would never force her, the man who would respect her fierce independence, and the man who knew all of her and her baggage, but didn't care. The dark veil of her dreams lifted in that instance, light shining on her reality. She closed the distance and their lips met in a short, gentle kiss. Starting small with baby steps was just what she needed; just as Booth had found his way over the walls of her heart, he would find his way deep into her heart like she had found herself nestled in his. Only this time, she would help him.

Booth pulled away a little, his forehead resting against hers, his breath still tickling her lips, teasing.

"I really do love you, Bones." He whispered. She smiled.

"I know." He gathered her in his arms and held her as tight as he could. Tempe's arms snaked their way around his waist and she pressed every available inch of herself against him. This was where she belonged. He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek on her hair, inhaling deeply.

"I love you, too…" She choked out. The three words she thought she could never say were out, and there was no going back. But it didn't matter. She felt Booth chuckled gently, his chest vibrating against her body.

"Now there's a best seller." He murmured, kissing her hair again.

"_There's nowhere else on earth I'd rather be._

_Here I am,_

_It's just me and you._

_Tonight we make our dreams come true._

_It's a new world,_

_It's a new start._

_Here we are,_

_We've just begun_

_And after all this time_

_Our time has come."_

_-Bryan Adams_

_Finis

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Here is your supplement between 'What Hurts the Most' parts. Hope you enjoyed it! Review! I command thee! -Ash


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